Take Two (15 page)

He bit back a smile. “I strength train. And I run on a treadmill. A treadmill that’s totally flat.”

“That’s lame.” She sighed, slowing her pace. “I guess walking is fine. Though I enjoyed seeing you struggle.” Her lips curved slightly.

“I deserve that.” Her candor made him hopeful. He continued in her path of truthfulness. “But trust me, I’m always struggling around you.”

The smile that had hinted before now settled on her face.

Good. They were making progress. Though they still had miles to go. “I feel horrible about last night. I’m buried under the weight of regret, Maddie, and I don’t know how to come up for air.” He paused, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt. “I was an asshole. I can’t bear that it might mean I never have another chance with you. What can I do, baby?” The endearment was a slip but he didn’t regret it when he saw the pleased glimmer in her eye.

“Tell Beaumont,” she said without hesitation.

“Of course. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“He isn’t on set tonight. He’s out for some Beaumont-y thing. Joe’s running the shoot.”

“Then I’ll tell Joe.”

She pinned him with her stare. “No, it has to be Beaumont.”

“Then I’ll tell him first thing the next time I see him. I swear to God.”

“And promise to never ever do anything like that again.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Never. He would never hurt her like that again, not on purpose.

“Okay.” She relaxed. “All right. Thank you.”

Micah let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They walked in silence for several seconds while he gathered up his courage to say what he had to say next. “But, Maddie, that won’t fix everything. We have to deal with this.” He waved his hand back and forth between them. “With whatever is going on between us. Because it’s not going away.” He returned the scowl she gave him. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you propose? Just fuck and get it over with?”

His balls throbbed at the suggestion of sex. “I was going to say one date, but yeah.”

She shook her head, her ponytail catching on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this.”

He exhaled slowly, worried that he was losing ground.

She turned on him before he could formulate a new plan. “Why me, Micah? If it’s not my repeated nos that have you intrigued, what is it? Why not one of the million other girls you know would kill for a night with you? Why me?”

That question. God, it was impossible to answer. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over since the airport and hadn’t come up with anything he could quite explain.

But now, for her, because she needed to know, he tried. “You remember that night?” He waited for her to nod. “Back then you liked me. At least, I think you did. And it wasn’t because I had money or a big name. It was me.”

He shook his head, not believing how completely exposed he was making himself for her. For a woman.

But as scary as it was, he wanted to be that exposed. “Now, when I’m kissing you, I’m kissing her—the woman who wanted to kiss that no-name guy from the wrap party. And you don’t seem to give a shit about the Micah Preston stuff.”

“That was a wrap party? Huh. I had no idea.” She kicked at the gravel with her toe, her eyes fixed on the ground.

It drove him crazy that she wasn’t looking him—that he couldn’t read her features, couldn’t see what she was thinking. “Yeah. For a Davenport film I’d just finished.”

“Hmm.” Finally she met his eyes. “Micah, that’s a really sweet sentiment. And I’m sure I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like for you. But I didn’t even know you back then. Yes, I was attracted to you for reasons that weren’t about fame or money. You were charming and adorable and well, so freakin’ hot.”

He grinned like he always did when she stated her attraction to him.

“But it was one night. A brief night a long time ago. If you want to know if I’m really into you, the real you under all that other stuff, then you’d have to give me a chance to get to know you. Because I don’t. I don’t know you.”

Her words punched him in the gut. Right. She didn’t know him. And he’d been wrapped up with this idea that she did—that she saw him for who he really was.

Yet instead of taking her truth and running like he usually did, he found himself asking, “Do you want to?”

“After what you pulled? I’m not sure.”

But she was still standing there talking to him. There had to be something he could say or do to make it work. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, if I hadn’t fucked it up royally, what would it take to be with you?”

“It would take you being willing to be with me. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to become my boyfriend. Or for you to be seen with me in the press. I’d just want a chance to see. See what happens, you know? Spend time together without any presumptions or preconceived notions of what we will or won’t be.”

“Spend time together…would that include time in and out of bed?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are such a horndog.”

“These days? Just for you.” His grin disappeared as he digested what she’d said. And though his next question tumbled out without much thought, he knew as he asked that it was exactly what he wanted. “I can’t take back yesterday, but if you thought you might be able to forgive me, and if I said okay, that I’d be willing to spend time with you without any presumptions or preconceived notions, would you give us that chance to see?”

Confusion and uncertainty crossed her face as she bit her upper lip.

Maybe it was too much to expect, for her to forgive him that completely. But he wanted so much for that chance, he had to ask. “At least consider it.” He took her hand.

“I told you not to touch me,” she grumbled, but she kept her hand in his. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He was sure his eagerness came off as nothing short of pathetic. Whatever. He’d rather be pathetic than without her.

“Okay, I’ll consider it.” She peered at him with intense brown eyes. “But you have to promise to respect whatever I decide.”

“Yes, of course.” He stroked her hand with his thumb, enjoying the vibrations that traveled through his nerves at the touch of her soft skin.

She stared at their joined hands as if trying to decide if his caress was pleasant or painful. “Why does it feel like I’ve already decided this a million times?”

“Maybe you keep making the wrong decision.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said, her voice laced in sarcasm.

They walked in silence, hands entwined, for several minutes, long enough for Micah to pretend they were an ordinary couple out for a lovers’ stroll. It felt…nice. Surreal, but nice. He wondered if she felt the same. “What are you thinking?”

She sighed. “I hate you.”

“Say that again,” he said, throwing the next line in the scene they had read together.

She smiled, catching his reference. Then she said the next line. “I hate you.”

Did she want him to continue? If they kept this up, it would lead to a kiss. Did she want that kiss? If his lips were on hers, she wouldn’t resist him. He knew it.

But he didn’t want to bully her anymore. So he dropped the scene. “I know,” he said. “I hate me too.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You’re going to break me,” she whispered.

But she was wrong. “You’re the one who’s going to break me.” She would. He knew it now. She was going to break him into so many pieces he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself.

And he was totally looking forward to it.

Chapter Fourteen

Maddie had always been sure. Sure of what to do with her life, sure of who she was as a person. Sure of everything.

The first time she’d really experienced a crack in her confidence had been several years ago when she’d interned for Joss Beaumont. He’d shown interest in her as a director and invested in a project of hers, a short film that she’d written. He had left all the details to her, and when the still inexperienced and fresh-from-school Maddie had overspent and failed to finish the film on budget, he tore her apart.

“You’re untalented and incompetent,” he’d screamed at her after watching the footage she did have. “You will not work in this town as a director again.”

He wouldn’t give her the money she needed to finish her film and, since his investment contract gave him full rights, he refused to let her finish it at all. Maddie had worked on that movie for two years, pouring her heart and soul into every frame only to see it get shelved, never to be viewed in the glory she’d envisioned.

A year or so later, when she’d recovered from the blow and began work on another film idea, she sought investors—people who could help her produce a decent movie. True to his word, Beaumont made sure the major players in the city knew his disrespect for Maddie and door after door was shut in her face. She learned the hard way that blacklisting wasn’t just an urban legend. Either that or she really was untalented and incompetent. Self-doubt overtook her and she eventually gave up. She took up working as Adam’s assistant instead and followed him from set to set, becoming a skilled and unflappable focus-puller. Yeah, she still tinkered with ideas, filming and editing as a hobby, but never letting dreams of career directing cross her mind again.

After the whole Beaumont fiasco, she thought she’d recovered nicely. She remained intrepid in every other aspect of her life, in control and secure.

And then Micah Preston came along. Now she was dizzy and doubtful and undecided. He threw her around like a deck of cards in a game of fifty-two card pick-up. Even when he returned to gather her together again, she still felt shuffled and rearranged and anything but sure.

She tapped her fingers on the mixer, thinking about him as she waited for the lighting to be set for the next scene. She’d wandered over to the sound table to remain out of the way and to text Bree for advice. But she had no bars in their remote location. She’d have to be a grown-up and sort her problems out on her own.

She closed her eyes and sighed, remembering Micah’s words as they’d walked together that afternoon. The reason behind his awful behavior revealed so much insecurity and heartache. “I wanted you to notice me.” The whole world focused on him and he was concerned about her attention? How could she not want to fold him into her arms and notice him all night long?

But then she’d remember all the women he’d been with, and she’d doubt again. He never had any intention of turning any of his encounters into a relationship. He doomed them from the start. Could he really let her in enough to overcome his natural tendency to remain aloof? Could he really give them the chance he alluded to?

And if he couldn’t, should she decide she didn’t care and just live in the moment? Or tell him once and for all that she’d had enough?

She wasn’t sure.

Chloe’s sassy voice pulled her from her reverie. “Did you say something?” Maddie asked.

“Huh, what?” Chloe removed one of the headphones from her ear that fed her the sound from the set.

“I thought you said something.”

Chloe broke into a grin. “Ha, no, I was just laughing at the actors. As always.”

Maddie glanced toward set. Micah and Heather were chatting by a large prop boulder. They were too far to hear though. Unless their microphones were still on. “Are their mics hot?”

“Yeah.” Chloe appeared to listen for a moment then chuckled again. “Heather’s giving Micah a hard time about his mood. It’s pretty funny.”

“Hmm, really?” Maddie tried not to seem too interested, but who was she kidding? She was interested in everything concerning Micah.

Chloe lowered her voice and spoke in a tone that insinuated good gossip. “I think she’s trying to hit on him. Well, they wouldn’t be the first costars to hook up during filming.”

Every hair on Maddie’s body stood up, a storm of jealousy brewing in her blood. “What?”

Chloe twisted her lips and narrowed her eyes. Then, her face eased as if she had come to a decision. “I really shouldn’t do this, but here.” She handed the headphones to Maddie. “I can’t have all the fun.”

Maddie hadn’t listened to hot mics since she’d worked on sound in college. It was common knowledge that the sound crew was always in the know, constantly overhearing conversations between actors when the cameras weren’t rolling and they’d forgotten their microphones were on. It was unethical for the crew to share their inside scoop, and Chloe had never done it as far as Maddie knew. At another time, in another place, Maddie would have politely turned down the offer. But now her curiosity won. She put the headphones on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Micah’s voice came through the cans clearly, his smooth murmur fed directly into her ears, sending a shiver down her spine.

“You’re distracted and happy all at once,” Heather purred. “Who are you thinking about?”

Maddie wondered if he was thinking about her like she was thinking about him. If he’d been sincere during their run that morning, she would bet money he was.

She watched him across the meadow as he ran his hand over his eyes. “I’m thinking about our scene.”

Heather tossed a blonde curl over her shoulder. “I don’t believe you. Our scene isn’t happy.” She grabbed Micah’s shirt and pulled him closer to her. “Are you thinking about us? I am.”